After the election, our men were highly respected by the inhabitants;

the old women brought the men bottles of "potheen whiskey" in their milk

cans. The sergeant on the gate not suspecting any smuggling, saw nothing

but milk in the can—but if he had searched the can he would have found

a black bottle of the real "mountain dew" at the bottom.

After being stationed here three months we got the route for Galway, a

town situated at the mouth of Lough Corrib; it is the west terminus of

the Midland Great Western Railway, and 117 miles west of Dublin.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IX.

THE MARCH—GALWAY—CAPTAIN BOURCHIER—DETACHMENT—REGATTA—ROW WITH

THE POLICE—ROUTE TO GALWAY—MAJOR BOURCHIER EXCHANGES—CAPTAIN

CROKER—CLADDAGH—ATTEND A CAMP MEETING—THE CITY OF GALWAY—

THEATRE—ROUTE TO DUBLIN.

August 26th, 1850, at 7 a.m., we marched out of Castlebar; the

townspeople accompanied us for some distance and gave us three hearty

cheers on parting. We marched sixteen miles that day, and were billeted

at Holymount. Previous to this, Captain Bourchier had applied for leave

of absence for three months, which reached him here, when he started for

England after bidding the company good-bye, and handing it over to

Lieutenant Coulthurst. We all suspected that he was going to be married

during his absence, which proved to be a fact, for on his return to the

regiment in November he brought his wife with him.

Next morning we were on the march again, and after fifteen miles,

arrived at Tuam, where we were billeted for the night, arriving in

Galway at two o'clock p.m. the following day, after a tiresome march of

eighteen miles. The grenadiers and light company, with four others, were

stationed at the Shamble Barracks, and four companies at the Castle.

Most of the officers stayed at Mackilroy's Hotel, in the Market Square

or "Green," as it was called, where they remained until their quarters

were ready for their reception. After our arrival, we all turned out to

fill our beds with straw at the barrack store as usual. Duty here was

easy, having only three guards to furnish, which consisted of two

sergeants, three corporals, and twenty-four privates daily, but we were

kept continually at drill, either commanding officer's, adjutant's, or

sergeant-major's. The only time we had to call our own was from supper

till tattoo.

During Captain Bourchier's absence from the regiment he had been

promoted to Brevet Major, and on his return about the thirtieth of

November, he brought a beautiful bride back with him to share his

military honours. He rented a comfortable house in one of the

aristocratic terraces of Salt Hill Road, in the suburbs of the town. At

Christmas he treated the company to a good dinner and a barrel of ale to

wash it down, when we drank towards his and his lady's health and

happiness, and wished them many returns of the season.

On the 30th January, 1851, I had an increase in my family, for a boy was

born to me. We had him christened Thomas Henry, Thomas after my father,

and Henry after my wife's father.

Our company was under orders for detachment at Banagher, a small

fortified garrison town on the River Shannon, and thirty miles south of

Galway.

May 1st, 1851, our company was formed on the barrack square, inspected

by the Colonel, and after a few words of fatherly advice from him, we

marched up High Street, accompanied outside the town by the band,

playing Irish airs. We had thirty miles to march, which we accomplished

in two days. We marched through Oranmore, Athenry, and were billeted in

Ballinasloe one night, passing through Eyrecourt, arriving in Banagher

next day at three p.m. These barracks are sufficient to accommodate

about one hundred and fifty men, situated within a fortification which

commands a bridge that spans the Shannon, and connects King's County

with the County Galway. This part of the country is celebrated for

fishing, shooting, and boating, and Portumna Lake, about fourteen miles

from here, is famous for regattas, which our three officers, viz., Major

Bourchier, Lieutenant Coulthurst and Ensign Williams, availed themselves

of during our time of duty at this station. They purchased a yacht, a

four-oar gig, and a duck boat, from their predecessors. They also hired

one Jack, the boatsman, to take care of the yacht and boats, and

accompany them when required. They frequently took a man or two of the

company with them when on sailing excursions to work the yacht, which we

enjoyed very much.

The Major, Ensign Williams, "Jack," and myself, went to a regatta at

Portumna, a distance of fourteen miles, in the four-oared gig; we rowed

down the river very fast, arriving there at twelve o'clock, in time for

the first race. The officers were invited on board one of the

gentlemen's yachts, which was to sail in the match, "Jack and I" were

left in charge of the gig. After the race the officers returned at nine

o'clock, p.m., when we started to row back to barracks; after we got

eight miles, we came to a lock which was open as we passed through going

down in the morning, but now it was shut, and we had no alternative but

carry our boat to the other side of the lock. This being done, we took a

drink of "potteen" which we had in the boat to cheer us up. After

refreshing ourselves we started again with renewed vigour. In going down

in the morning we thought nothing of rowing fourteen miles with the

stream, but now going back against it was quite a different affair, the

stream ran so very swift, and we had hard work to make headway against

it. However, with good pluck and a drop out of the bottle of "potteen,"

now and then, we braved the stream and reached barracks at two o'clock

in the morning. Scarcely a day passed without a boating, fishing, or

shooting excursion of some kind. This makes it a very pleasant station,

and besides, the town has a clean, neat and tidy appearance, compared

with some towns we have seen in Ireland, and can boast of one decent

hotel, "Mann's Hotel," besides several public houses with skittle alleys

attached, which places of amusement several of our men patronized. Two

of the company had an altercation with two or three of the police at one

of these places, when the latter tried to take the two soldiers to the

police station; this the soldiers objected to, whereupon a row ensued,

then several more police joined and were forcing the soldiers off, when

their comrades in barracks, having been warned of the row by some

person, rushed out of barracks with naked bayonets in hand, rescued the

two soldiers and beat the police, driving the whole force out of the

town and chasing them through the country, where they skedaddled and hid

in the potato fields. Several of the police got hurt, but not very

seriously. Our company and the police never could agree after that row,

but they never again attempted to take any of our men to the

station-house. About a month after the row with the police, we got

relieved by No. 6 company from head-quarters.

On the 27th October we marched out of barracks at two o'clock, p.m., as

the relieving company marched in. After a march of sixteen miles we

arrived in Ballinasloe at seven o'clock in the evening, where we were

billeted for the night. The railway, which was in course of construction

as we passed here _en route_ to Banaghar, being now finished and the

train running on it, we took the train at eleven o'clock, a.m., arriving

at Galway Station at twelve, where we were met by the band, which

marched at the head of the company down Main Street, playing the

"British Grenadiers" as we marched into the Shamble Barracks. One month

after this, Major Bourchier had exchanged to the 54th Regiment, which

was in the East Indies. The night previous to his departure his brother

officers of the regiment entertained him as their guest at the mess,

where they all expressed deep sorrow at his leaving, and his loss to the

regiment. After bidding the men good-bye, he left for India, taking with

him the best wishes and prayers for his future welfare, especially of

his own company, the grenadiers, to whom he had ever been a father

during his command. Many of the men accompanied him to the railway

station to see him off; need I say we lost a friend.

Captain John Croker, a Limerick man, not only the tallest officer in the

regiment (height 6 feet 4 ins.) but now the senior captain, who formerly

belonged to No. 8 company, now got command of the grenadiers, vice

Captain Bourchier promoted. Galway has a population of about 25,000; the

old town is poorly built and irregular, and some of its old houses have

the Spanish architecture, easily accounted for by the great intercourse

which at one time subsisted between Galway and Spain. The new town

consists of well planned and spacious streets, built on a rising ground

which slopes gradually towards the harbour; its suburbs are very

wretched—collections of wretched cabins—inhabited by a poor class of

people; one of these suburbs called the Claddagh is inhabited by

fishermen who exclude all strangers and live perfectly amongst

themselves, electing their king, etc., and ever marrying within their

own circle. These fishermen still speak the grand old Celtic language,

and the old Irish costume is still worn by the women—open gowns and red

petticoats.

They annually elect a mayor, whose functions are to administer the laws

of their fishery, and to superintend all internal regulations. One of

these fishermen's sons took a great liking to the soldiers, and

frequently came into the barracks to see us at drill. He was about 6

feet 4 ins. in height, and a powerfully built young man of eighteen

years old. He applied to the sergeant-major to enlist. He took him

before the Colonel who approved of him when he was enlisted in the 17th

Regiment; his name was Paddy Belton. His father came and tried to get

him off, but it was no use, he had his mind made up, and wished to be a

soldier. After getting his uniform on, he invited a comrade and myself,

to a "camp" in his village, which is a contest of skill, or competition

for priority—a display of female powers at the spinning of yarn. It is

indeed a cheerful meeting of the bright fair girls; and although strong

and desperate rivalry is the order of the day, it is conducted in a

spirit so light-hearted and friendly that I scarcely know a more

interesting or delightful amusement in a country life. When a "camp" is

about to be held the affair soon becomes known in the neighbourhood;

sometimes young women are asked, but in most instances so eager are they

to attend that invitations are unnecessary; in winter time and in

mountain districts, it is often as picturesque as pleasant.

The young women usually begin to assemble at four o'clock in the

morning; and as they always go in groups, accompanied besides by their

sweethearts, or some male relative, each of the latter bearing a large

torch of well dried bog-deal, their voices, songs and laughter break

upon the stillness of the morning with a holiday feeling, made five

times more delightful by the darkness of the hour. The spinning wheels

are carried by the young men, amidst an agreeable volley of repartee.

From the moment they arrive the mirth is fast and furious, nothing is

heard but laughter, conversation, songs, and anecdotes, all in a loud

key; among the loud humming of spinning wheels, and the noise of reels,

as they incessantly crack the cuts in the hands of the reelers who are

perpetually turning them from morning till night, in order to ascertain

the quantity which every competitor has spun; and whoever has spun the

most wins the "camp," and is queen for the night. At the conclusion of

the "camp," we all repaired to a supper of new milk and flummery, which

was most delicious. This agreeable meal being over, we repaired to the

dancing-room, where Mickey Gaffey, the piper, was installed in his own

peculiar arm-chair of old Irish oak; a shebeen man, named Barney O'Shea,

had brought a large jar of potteen to cheer the boys' hearts for the

occasion, of which they freely partook, when the dancing commenced. It

is not my intention to enter into a detailed account of the dancing, nor

of the good humour which pervaded amongst them; it is enough to say that

the old people performed cotillons, and the young folks jigs, reels, and

country dances; hornpipes were performed upon doors (the floor being of

earth) with the greatest skill. My comrade and myself enjoyed the dance,

which was kept up all night, taking a drop of potteen between the

dances, to keep our spirits up by pouring spirits down. Our leave was up

at six o'clock in the morning, and we had to report ourselves not later

than that hour to the sergeant of the quarter guard, so we left the

dance at four o'clock, got to barracks before six, gave in our passes to

the sergeant, and were just in time for morning drill, when we drilled

till a quarter to eight o'clock, I can assure you with aching heads

after the potteen.

The principal buildings in Galway are, the Queen's College, which was

just opened a year before our arrival there; among the other edifices

are three monasteries and five nunneries, Smith's College, the

court-house and barracks, with the grand old Church of St. Nicholas. It

has numerous flour, and other mills, also breweries, and distilleries.

Extensive salmon and sea fishing are carried on here.

The bay is a large expanse of water about eighteen miles broad at its

seaward extremity, diminishing to about eight miles inland, and being

about twenty miles long. It is protected from the swell of the Atlantic

by the Arran Isles. South-west from Galway to the sea is the district

called Connemara, which contains vast bogs, moors, loughs and marshes,

which present a bleak and dreary aspect. Galway abounds in ancient

remains of Celtic as well as of the Norman period; cromlech and monastic

ruins are found in several parts of the county.

A very fine specimen of this class is that of Knockmoy, near Tuam,

besides several round towers. The officers amused themselves both

fishing and shooting when off duty; they frequently could be seen with

rod and line landing a large sized salmon, on the banks of the river,

and another officer coming into the barracks in the evening with his dog

and gun, with his bag well filled with game after his day's sport.

Besides these enjoyments they organized an amateur dramatic company,

with Lieutenant Lindsay, Lieutenant Coulthurst and Ensign Williams at

its head, with the band and a few smart non-commissioned officers and

privates; which was well patronised by the officers and their ladies,

besides several of the nobility and gentry of the town and any of the

soldiers who wished to attend. This brought round the best of feeling

between the regiment and inhabitants, and produced excellent results.

We had been for some time looking out for an order for Dublin. Our

expectations were fulfilled on the fifteenth of March, by the Colonel

receiving a large official envelope containing the route for the 17th

regiment to proceed by rail on the 28th March, 1852, to Dublin, there to

be stationed and do garrison duty till further orders, to be quartered

in the Richmond Barracks. The order having been read to the regiment,

the news soon spread to the creditors in the town, when could be seen

tailors, shoemakers, hatters, bakers, grocers, and liquor merchants, all

rushing into the barracks looking for their debtors.

Notwithstanding the credit of the regiment having been cried down on our

arrival, many tradespeople had given credit to several parties, which

they now were trying to collect; but all those who cannot collect it

now, the first tap of the big drum will pay them, when we march out of

town.

"How happy is the soldier who lives on his pay,

And spends half a crown out of sixpence a day."

We had fifteen days to get ready, which were occupied in cleaning

barracks, filling nail holes, and white-washing, to obviate as much as

possible that curse, barrack damages, which always follows a regiment

from one barrack to another.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER X.

THE MARCH—RAIL TO DUBLIN—ARRIVAL—GARRISON DUTY—CASTLE GUARD—THE

OLD MAN'S HOSPITAL—DIVINE SERVICE—TENT-PITCHING—DEATH OF THE "IRON

DUKE"—THE FUNERAL—THE QUEEN VISITS DUBLIN—BUILDINGS AND

INSTITUTIONS—THE ROUTE.

March 28th, 1852, the regiment was formed on the Barrack Square, at six

o'clock a.m., in heavy marching order, full kits in our packs: the

companies minutely inspected and told off by their respective captains;

reports collected by the adjutant, when all reported present to the

Colonel, who then gave the command "fours rights, quick march," when

they stepped off, the companies wheeling to the right out of the gate,

the band striking up "Patrick's Day," playing up the main street. During

the inspection the barrack-gate had been besieged by a large crowd of

town's people, who accompanied the regiment to the railway station,

where we were joined by the two companies from the Castle. While getting

the regimental baggage, women, and children on the train, the band

discoursed some sweet music, causing frequent cheers from the crowd. At

length all was ready, when a wild scream from the engine was heard, and

the train moved out slowly from beneath the vaulted roof of the station,

amid cheer after cheer from the populace, who were assembled in large

numbers to see us off; the band playing during the slow departure of the

train from the station, and the men waving their handkerchiefs, in

response, from the carriage windows. At last the train quickened the

speed, and soon station and crowd faded from our view. We were scarcely

an hour in our seats—and viewing the country as the train sped along,

and admiring the beautiful green fields, hills and valleys interspersed

with running streams, the peasantry gazing in wonder, and the country

girls waving their handkerchiefs as the long train of soldiers passed

them by—when a shrill whistle from the engine was heard, and then, with

much noise, and many a heavy sob, the vast machine swept smoothly into

the station at Ballinasloe.

There were, formed in line on the platform, the companies from

detachment at Banagher and Portumna, waiting our arrival to join

head-quarters. The train stopped at this station twenty minutes, when

the two companies came on board. All being ready, the train moved off

again, soon reaching Athlone, where we stopped fifteen minutes. Here we

got refreshments—a glass of beer and a biscuit, which we enjoyed,

having breakfasted at five that morning. About an hour after we were in

Mullingar, stopping fifteen minutes, when we started again. We are

rapidly leaving Mullingar behind. The fields gradually assume a green

and spring-like aspect. This part of the country is highly cultivated.

Occasionally a small village in the valley, by some running stream, or

upon the hill side, gives life and charm to the landscape. The Royal

Canal runs alongside of the railway all the way from Dublin to

Mullingar, and unites the Liffy with the Shannon in the west.

As I was viewing the beauty of the landscape, the engine gave a loud and

long whistle, which reminded me we were close to the city. Now we can

see Wellington's monument, in Phœnix Park; arriving at the station at

one o'clock, after a ride of one hundred and thirty miles, when we were

met by the band of the 39th Regiment, who played at the head of the

Regiment to Richmond Barracks. On arrival we were told off to our

different barracks.

These are splendid, large, airy barracks, sufficient for two regiments,

with good officers' and staff quarters, but bad for married soldiers,

who have to rent apartments outside.

The military force in Dublin then consisted of the 11th Hussars, Island

Bridge Barracks; 17th Lancers, Royal Horse Artillery and Foot Artillery,

Portobello; 2nd Dragoon Guards, 27th Regiment, Royal Barracks; 32nd

Light Infantry, Ship Street and Linen Hall Barracks; 39th and 17th

Regiments, Richmond Barracks; besides depôts at Beggars' Bush; the whole

under the command of Major-General Sir Edward Blakeley, whose quarters

were in the Old Man's Hospital, near Phœnix Park.

The regiments furnish the duties in their turn. In garrison orders of

the 30th, the 17th Regiment were detailed to furnish the whole of the

duties on the following day, viz:—The Castle Guard, one captain, one

subaltern, two sergeants, and twenty-four privates; Lower Castle, one

sergeant, one corporal and six privates; Vice-Regal Lodge, one sergeant,

two corporals and eighteen privates; Old Man's Hospital, one sergeant,

two corporals, and twelve privates; Kilmainham, one corporal, and three

privates; Arbour Hill Hospital, one sergeant, one corporal and twelve

privates; Magazine, one sergeant, one corporal and six privates;

Mountjoy, one corporal and six privates; Island Bridge, one sergeant,

one corporal and twelve privates; Picture Gallery, one corporal and

three privates; Bank of Ireland, one subaltern, one sergeant, one

corporal and twelve privates; Richmond, one sergeant two corporals and

twelve privates.

These guards, with the regimental guards, assemble daily (Sundays and

wet days excepted), on the Esplanade, at ten p.m., when they are

trooped, the junior officer of the Castle Guard carrying the colours

during the trooping. The regiment who furnishes the duties for the day,

also furnishes the band, which plays during the trooping of the colours,

when crowds of spectators assemble to witness this military review.

After they march past in slow and quick time, the guards are formed on

their commanders, when they are marched off to their respective guards

by the field officer of the day. Relieving the Castle Guard is a very

imposing sight, and hundreds of people assemble to witness this military

performance, as well as to hear the sweet martial music while the guards

are relieving. Before the old guard marches off the new guard plants its

colours in the centre of the Castle yard, with a sentry over them. Two

sentries are posted at the gate of the Castle yard, and two on the door

of the Castle, under the portico. All the sentries of the old guard

having been relieved, the guard is marched off by its captain, the

subaltern carrying the colours, when the new guard salutes by presenting

arms, after which the new guard takes the place of the old; the relief

being told off, they are dismissed to the guard-room. The guards take

their rations with them, which consists of three-quarters of a pound of

beef or mutton, one pound and a half of bread, one pound and a half of

potatoes and onions, one-eighth ounce of tea, quarter of an ounce of

coffee, two ounces of sugar, with pepper and salt to each man. There

being but one pot and pan in each guard-room they are kept, as you may

well imagine, in active work until six o'clock in the evening, every

relief boiling potatoes and making tea and coffee.

I was detailed for the Old Man's Hospital, which is a large

establishment, and consists of the Major General's Quarters, the English

Church, where the troops from Richmond attend divine service, as well as

the "Old Pensioners," or "Old Fogies," as they are called. There are

quarters here for about eight hundred men; any pensioner can be admitted

who applies (married men excepted). They are required to pay in their

pension for their board and clothes; the latter consists of cloth

trowsers, red tunic, which comes down below the knee, and a Napoleon

hat. They have no duty to perform, only keep themselves and quarters

clean and tidy. They are all well satisfied and seem happy; chatting,

and fighting their battles over again. The grounds, walks, avenues,

shrubbery, kitchen-garden, and flower-beds around this institution show

the taste, cleanliness, and discipline of those old veterans whose home

it now is, provided by a grateful country.

Being relieved from guard next day, we had kit inspection by the

commanding officer, accompanied by Major Cole, who had just joined.

Sunday, church parade at ten a.m.; being inspected, we were marched off,

the band playing through Kilmainham, to the Old Man's Hospital, where

the Protestants and Roman Catholics parted for the time. I, belonging to

the latter, marched to St. Mary's Church, on Arran Quay. As we marched

along the Liffy the sweet strains of music, which re-echoed along the

river from the different bands as they marched to church, caused a most

pleasant sensation, which raised our thoughts heavenward. It is deeply

to be regretted bands do not now play on Sundays, owing to the Puritan

objections. Strict military discipline, numerous general field-days and

reviews, drilling at tent-pitching in the nineteen acres, regimental

drills and parades, with five nights in bed, kept our men pretty well

employed. But the beautiful walks in Phœnix Park, and driving to the

strawberry beds on side-cars, with our sweethearts on Sunday afternoons,

together with theatres, concerts, museums, picture galleries, and the

scenery of the city, compensated us well for all our strict discipline,

and we were well pleased with Dublin as a military station.

Now came a sad and mournful event to the army. The Duke of

Wellington—the Iron Duke, that noble and illustrious warrior and

statesman, whose glorious and eventful life, history relates and old

veterans remember—terminated this earthly career at the ripe age of 84

years. This event, which took place suddenly and unexpected, occurred on

Tuesday, the 14th of September, 1852, after a few hours' illness, at

Walmer Castle his official residence. The intelligence of this mournful

event was received at the time with the deepest regret by the officers

and men of our regiment, and universal gloom pervaded throughout the

whole garrison. The hero of Salamanca, St. Sebastian, Quatre-Bras,

Ligny, and Waterloo, had paid the last debt. November the 1st, a general

order was issued directing one officer, one sergeant, and twelve rank

and file from each regiment in garrison to proceed, on the 8th inst., to

London, to take part in the funeral procession of the late Field

Marshal, His Grace the Duke of Wellington. Lieutenant W. H. Earle,

Sergeant Plant, and twelve rank and file (I being one of the latter), to

parade on the Esplanade, with the detachment from the other regiments in

garrison, when they were inspected by the General, and marched off, with

a field officer in charge, going on board a steamer at the North Wall,

at six o'clock p.m. We had on board about one hundred and fifty picked

men from these corps, I being the smallest man of the party, and I was

five feet eleven. The men vied with each other in a smart, soldier-like

appearance. All being ready, the Captain cried out, "all on board," when

the steamer moved out slowly from the quay, passed clear of the shipping

and Pigeon House Fort on the right, where detachments of our men

assembled, and gave us three cheers, waving their handkerchiefs, the

steamer rushed onwards, city and shore fading away, and nothing but

heavy clouds and water could be seen. The evening had an angry

appearance; darkness closed around; the sailors thought it looked like a

storm, but they were mistaken, although the vessel rolled and pitched

more than we thought agreeable. After a good deal of rolling and

pitching, with a frequent wave breaking over our bow, we steamed into

Liverpool docks at six o'clock in the morning, landed, got breakfast,

and marching to the railway station, took the train at 9 a.m. for

London. The engine gave the warning whistle, and we moved out of the

station, and were whirling onward towards London. The morning was

bright, invigorating and beautiful, the swift-winged train going

thundering along at the rate of forty miles an hour. After a ride of one

hundred and eighty miles in nine hours, we were set down at Euston

Station. While in London, we were quartered in Regent Park. On the

morning of the 13th of November, nothing could be more imposing than the

whole line of this melancholy procession; the day was fine, and the

appearance of the troops splendid.

The streets were lined with cavalry and infantry, from the station to

St. Paul's Cathedral. At twelve o'clock the body arrived by rail from

Walmer Castle, escorted by a guard of honour. To detail the order of the

procession would occupy too much space here, suffice it to say, that the

cortege moved from the station, the bands playing the dead march, minute

guns firing, as it marched to St. Paul's Cathedral, where the body was

lowered into the crypt, close to the last earthly resting-place of the

heroic Nelson, waiting for the trumpet to turn-out. The funeral was one

of the most gorgeous and solemn spectacles that had ever before been

witnessed in England.

This solemn duty being performed, we returned by rail next morning to

Liverpool, where we took the steamer at six p.m. for Dublin, arriving

there at six in the morning, after a rough passage, with several cases

of sea-sickness, when we marched to our respective barracks.

The regiments in Dublin are changed from one barrack to another every

ten months; ours having been in Richmond the prescribed time, were

changed with the 63rd from the Royal Barracks. The first of April we

marched from Richmond, meeting the 63rd, when the junior saluted the

senior; the 17th being the older regiment, we had the honour of their

salute. On arrival, we were quartered in Palatine Square. The change we

hailed with pleasure, as it brought us closer to the amusements of the

city. Twelve men of each company were now armed with the Minié Rifle,

rather an improvement on Brown Bess, and proceeded to the Pigeon House

Fort, to go through a course of rifle instruction on the beach; this

course being finished, the rifles were handed over to twelve others, who

went through a course in the same manner, and so on, until the whole

regiment had gone through a course of rifle instruction.

On the 1st of February, 1853, I had another increase in my family, for a

daughter was born. We had her christened at St. Mary's Church, Arran

Quay, Dublin.

In the summer, the Queen and Prince Albert visited Dublin. A message

having been received that Her Majesty and the Prince were to land at

Kingstown, the grenadiers and light company were ordered to proceed by

rail from Westland Row Station to Kingstown, as a guard of honour. We

were formed in two lines facing inwards from the terminus to where the

Royal yacht was to come alongside, forming a passage which was spread

with a red carpet, for Her Majesty and the Prince to walk to the railway

carriage. We were standing there an hour when the Royal yacht was

descried in the distance, and as she steamed into the harbour, the ships

fired a royal salute. The yacht coming alongside the quay, we could see

Her Majesty and Prince Albert walking the deck. Her Majesty looked well,

and wore a plain plaid shawl, and seemed well pleased with the

reception. Soon after arrival, the Royal couple landed. As Her Majesty

stepped on shore, the guns of the fortresses belched forth a royal

salute; at the same time the bands played "God save the Queen." A

special train was in readiness, which conveyed the Royal couple and

guards of honour to Dublin, where they went in an open carriage to the

Vice-Regal Lodge, accompanied by several troops of cavalry. On the

occasion of Her Majesty and the Prince landing, many thousands of people

were present, and on the streets along the route to the Vice-Regal

Lodge, were immense crowds, who cheered and waved their hats, Her

Majesty and the Prince most carefully acknowledging their loyalty. Two

days afterwards, the troops in garrison were ordered to assemble in

review order at ten a.m., in the fifteen acres to be reviewed before Her

Majesty and Prince Albert. On the day appointed, the troops were marched

into the park, bands playing at the head of their respective corps

(accompanied by thousands of citizens), and were formed in line of

contiguous quarter distance columns facing the east, with the field

batteries on the flanks, and the cavalry in rear, at ten a.m. After

waiting a few minutes, Sir Edward Blakeney and his staff arrived, when

he deployed the troops into line.

On the appearance of her Majesty on the ground the artillery fired a

royal salute, the infantry presenting arms, the bands playing "God save

the Queen." Her Majesty in an open carriage, drove down the front of the

line inspecting the whole, including the boys of the Hibernian School.

After the inspection the troops marched past Her Majesty in slow, quick,

and double time. The Queen seemed delighted with the marching past;

afterwards they were put through several field movements. As the Queen

was looking on, the crowd made a rush, determined to take off the horses

and to draw Her Majesty in her carriage. This Prince George took for an

attempt to assault her person, not understanding the character of the

Irish people, when he called out for the cavalry to form up; but when he

found that he mistook the people's loyalty, he apologized. This little

contretemps caused the Queen to smile at the mistake he had made, when

she drove off (well pleased with the review) to the Vice-Regal Lodge,

accompanied by an escort of cavalry. The troops were then marched to

their respective barracks, with their bands playing. On arrival in

barracks the grenadiers and light company were detailed for a guard of

honour to Her Majesty during her visit at the Vice-Regal Lodge, and be

encamped in front of the lodge in readiness to turn out at Her Majesty's

pleasure. After Her Majesty's departure the regiment was removed from

the Royal to Ship-street Barracks, with two companies at Linen Hall. We

also formed a guard of honour on the occasion of the Lord Lieutenant

opening the great Irish exhibition. The public buildings of Dublin are

famed for their number and grandeur. In the first class may be mentioned

the Bank of Ireland, formerly the House of Parliament; Trinity College,

the Custom House and the Four Courts, which, from the chasteness of

their design, and the massiveness of their proportions, have a very

imposing effect. Here, also we find monuments of William the Third, in

College Green; of Nelson, in Sackville Street; of the Duke of Wellington

in the Park, with several others. There are numerous places of

worship—Roman Catholic and Protestant—monasteries, convents, and a

Jewish synagogue. The most remarkable among the Protestant churches are,

Saint Patrick's Cathedral and Christ's Church, and among the Roman

Catholic, St. Mary's, St. Saviours, St. Augustine, and St. Kevin's. The

squares, which are very numerous, spacious, and well kept, are Stephen's

Green, which occupies an area of twenty acres, and a mile in circuit;

Merrion Square, the most aristocratic; the Trinity College Squares

occupy more than 40 acres; Rutland Square, with the Rotunda at the end

of Sackville Street. The environs of Dublin are especially beautiful.

Rathmines, a southern suburb, is a favourite residence of the wealthier

part of the mercantile community. Glasnevin, on the north, deserves

special notice, being the last resting place of the remains of Dan.

O'Connell, Curran, and Tom Steele. The Phœnix Park is a magnificent area

of nearly 2000 acres, having a large amount of timber, which shelter

immense herds of deer; it affords scope for military reviews, and is

most extensively used by the inhabitants for recreation. The Liffy is

crossed by nine bridges, two of which are iron, and throughout the whole

extent of the city, the banks of the river are faced with granite walls.

At Christmas, our Captain, John Croker, treated the company to a barrel

of Guiness's porter; Lieutenants Coulthurst and Earle looked after the

sergeants and married men, in the way of several substantials at

Christmas, when we drank towards their health and wished them many

returns of the season. Winter here is very pleasant, not much drill,

visiting theatres and concerts in the evening. Our term here is short.

On the 16th February, 1854, we got the route for Templemore, a town 90

miles south-west of Dublin.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XI.

ARRIVAL AT TEMPLEMORE—THE ROUTE TO CORK—EMBARKATION FOR

GIBRALTAR—QUEENSTOWN—THE VOYAGE—STORM AT SEA—GIBRALTAR.

At ten a.m., after inspection by Colonel McPherson, C.B., who took

command of the regiment, vice Styte, who retired, we marched to the

Great Southwestern Railway station, the band playing the "British

Grenadiers," accompanied by crowds of people, who gave us three cheers

as the train moved from the station, the band playing "Auld Lang Syne,"

and the men waving their handkerchiefs. After a run of one hundred miles

in three hours, we arrived in Templemore and marched to our respective

quarters. These barracks are built on the same plan as those at

Richmond, and large enough for two regiments. The town is small and

dull, but the country very pretty. We were here a little over two months

when we got the order to proceed to Cork by rail, on the 27th April,

there to embark on board two sailing transports, the "Dunbar" and

"Cornwall," two sister ships; the right wing to go in the latter, and

the left in the former.

War with Russia having been declared on Friday, March the 28th, we all

agreed that, though ordered to Gibraltar, before many months would

elapse we would have the honour and glory of taking the field shoulder

to shoulder with those troops who had already embarked for the seat of

war in the East.

April 27th, 1854. The regiment took the train at two p.m., arriving in

Cork at five p.m., distance one hundred miles, in three hours. On

arrival we were quartered in Cork Barrack that night, next morning we

were conveyed to the transports, which rode at anchor in Queenstown

harbour, by two small tug steamers. This harbour is unsurpassed for

capacity and safety; it is distinguished into upper and lower, the

latter is situated eleven miles below the city, three miles long by two

broad, and completely landlocked. Its entrance is by a channel two miles

long by one wide, defended on one side by forts Camden and Carlisle. The

upper portion extends for about five miles below the city to Passage;

within the harbour are several islands, the principal of which are,

Great Island, on which is situated the fortifications of Queenstown;

Spike Island, on which is a bomb-proof artillery barrack, and convict

depôt; Rocky Island, on which are powder magazines excavated in the

rock; each side of the harbour is richly planted with ornamental trees

and shrubs, studded with beautiful villas, cottages and terraces; and

Queenstown deserves special notice, for its magnificent suburban

residences of the gentry, interspersed with ornamental trees, well-kept

lawns and promenades, elegantly designed churches and chapels, red brick

buildings, splendid shops with large plate glass windows, and clean,

wide streets, with a fine view of the shipping in the harbour, make it

one of the most delightful places in Ireland. The climate being so

salubrious, it is much frequented by consumptive invalids.

The right wing were all on board (except some married officers and their

families) when each company were shown their berths and mess-tables,

after which stowing of knapsacks commenced; the ship's officers were

busily engaged telling off the women and children to their berths in the

after part of the ship. On the upper deck everything was in confusion;

the ship's steward was getting his fresh supply of provisions on board

for the voyage, and the sailors stowing away in coops and pens, hens,

ducks and sheep; at last the deck was cleared, and things put

ship-shape. The rolls being called and all reported present, the watches

were then told off. The captain walking the quarter-deck, the sailors

and soldiers man the capstan, and the band ready to play, with a stiff

breeze off the land. At 3 o'clock p.m. the captain gave the order to

weigh anchor, when the band struck up "Rule Britannia," the sailors and

soldiers keeping time to the music, manning the capstan. As the anchor

was tripped, the sails were unfurled, and we ran out of the harbour,

amid cheers from the shore and shipping in the harbour, and were soon

bowling along with a stiff breeze on the bow (N.W.). The men were served

out with hammocks and one blanket, one tin plate, one panakin to each

man, one meat dish, one soup can for each mess; every mess had brought

their own pudding clothes. At five the tea bugle sounded, when the

orderly men repaired to the cook's-galley for the tea, and served it out

in the messes. After tea the men went on deck to smoke, chat, and wonder

if they were going to be sea-sick. At five thirty the ration bugle

sounded, when the orderly men proceeded to draw rations for next day,

which consisted of salt pork and beef, on alternate days, biscuits,

flour, raisins, currants, tea, sugar, cocoa, vinegar, mustard, pepper

and salt; they made the plum-pudding for dinner, tied it up ready to

boil after breakfast next day—so you see Her Majesty cares for her

gallant soldiers. The ship was skimming along with a stiff breeze on the

starboard bow, all sails set. At six o'clock the boatswain piped down

hammocks, when they were all swung, and as the last post sounded at nine

o'clock, they all managed to crawl into them. I was on watch from eight

to twelve; the wind had been increasing during the evening. I also

observed the sky had an angry appearance; the sailors were all busily at

work securing every sail and making all taut. The wind had changed in

the night and was now blowing hard in our teeth; it was a case of

tacking, and for landsmen a very trying affair; all night it blew a

gale, the wind still from the same quarter; in the night the sailors had

to shorten sail several times, each time the ship was brought round on

the other tack with a tremendous lurch, and mess tins, water kegs, and

tin dishes were dashed to the other side in frightful confusion. My

watch being relieved, I turned in at twelve, and with all the pitching

and tossing I slept soundly until I was awoke by the orderly sergeant

turning out the men to get their hammocks stowed on deck. When I went on

deck to put my hammock in the place appointed, the wind was still

blowing hard; I had to hold on to keep my footing; the whole sea was

alive, wave chasing wave and bounding over each other crested with foam.

Now and then the ship would pitch her nose into the waves even to the

bulwark, and dash the billows aside, and buoyantly rise again, bowling

along at ten knots an hour though under moderate sail. Breakfast at

eight o'clock of hard sea biscuits and cocoa; but many were on their

backs in sea-sickness. After breakfast all hands were ordered on deck

except the orderly men, who kept the mess in order and prepared the

meals. The wind was still very high and the long swells began to tell on

the men; the figure-head plunging as usual deeply into the water, and

the heads of some of our men hanging in agony over the gunwale and

portsill, in the horrors of sea-sickness.

At the sound of the grog bugle at twelve, they all sprightened up, and

very few were absent from their half-gill of rum and two waters. When

the dinner of salt-beef and plum pudding was served, most of them made

appearance. After dinner the sun had shown through the clouds, and the

men gathered in groups on deck to smoke and chat. The progress of the

ship was a subject of interest; it was the first thing in the morning

and the last at night; and all through the day the direction of the

wind, the state of the sky, the weather, and the rate we were going at,

were the uppermost topics of the conversation. The ship was bounding

along very fast, and it was a fine sight to look up at the clouds of

canvas bellied out by the wind like the wings of a gigantic bird, while

the ship rushed through the water, dashing it in foam from her bows, and

always dipping her figure-head into the waves, sending up a shower of

spray. There was always something exciting in the ship, and the way in

which she was handled astonished us soldiers; for instance, to see the

top-gallant sails hauled down when the wind freshened, or a stay-sail

set as the wind went round to the east. The hauling in of the mainsail

on a stormy night was to be remembered for a life-time; twenty-four

sailors on the main-yard at a time, clewing in to the music of the wind

whistling through the rigging. The sailors sing out cheerily at their

work, the one who mounts the highest or stands the foremost on the deck

usually taking the lead, thus—they cheer up—

"Haul in the bowlin',

I love you, Mary Nolan,

Haul in the bowlin',

Rollin' yo, heave ho."

In comes the rope with a jerk until the "belay," sung out by the mate,

signifies that the work is right. Then there is a rush on the deck when

the wind changes, and the yards are to be squared as the wind comes more

aft. Being relieved at twelve I turned in and slept well until four

o'clock, when I was awoke by the watch holystoning the deck, under the

charge of the officer of the watch. I need scarcely explain that the

holystone is a large, soft stone, used with water for scrubbing the

decks. It rubs down with sand. The sand is washed off by water from the

hose, the pump being worked by four men, a man directing the nozzle of

the hose into every crevice; the force of the water washing every

particle of dirt from the hen-coops, sheep-pens and decks. The watch

always wash decks in their bare feet, their trowsers turned up above

their knees. After the decks are well washed down with water from the

hose, they are dried with swabs, and the deck looks as white as a

tablecloth; the boards brighten with the work, not a grease-mark or spot

of dirt is to be seen; all polished off with hand scrapers; the ropes

all neatly coiled man-of-war fashion, not a bight out of place, and the

brass-work polished and shining—hard work before breakfast. By six

o'clock the decks are all clean and dry and everything looking neat; at

nine o'clock the doctor ordered all the women and children on deck; the

sun shone through the clouds and all was pleasant, the ship running

along with close-reefed canvas. At sundown the wind changed round on her

larboard quarter from the north-west, and we were making good progress

across the Bay of Biscay; we were getting accustomed to the motion of

the ship, and many of the officers and men assembled on deck until a

late hour watching our course and looking for our port. On Sunday

morning the wind was blowing a gale; during the twenty-four hours we

made 190 miles.

At ten o'clock we were all assembled on the main deck for Divine

service, which was read by the captain of the ship; the day was fine

with a stiff breeze; we were running before the wind at the rate of ten

knots an hour; we had slept well all night. Going on deck next morning,

I found the wind strong from the north, and the ship going through the

water at a splendid rate; as much sail was on her as she could carry,

and she was dashing along, leaving a broad track of foam in her wake.

There is no resting, but a constant pushing onward; and, as we look over

the bulwark, the waves tipped by the foam which the ship has raised seem

to fly behind us at a prodigious speed. At ten next morning we found the

ship's run during the twenty-four hours had been 200 miles—a grand

day's work, nearly equal to steam. We ran well before the breeze all

night, until about six in the morning, when the wind changed to our

starboard bow, and heavy dark clouds appeared in the distance, and the

wind dropped almost to a calm, the sails flapping against the mast all

day and night.

Next morning the sailors were busy securing ropes and getting everything

ready; they said this calm was but weather breeding, and predicted that

we were to have a change. The glass was falling, and we were to look out

for squalls. They were not disappointed in their morning's expectations

of a gale. Before morning we had it in earnest.

We, novices in sea life, thought we had a severe storm on Friday night,

but the sailors only laughed at us when we spoke of it. In our hammocks

below we knew that the wind was blowing a gale, that the ship was

pitching and tossing about fearfully, and could hear the boatswain's

whistle, and the sailors aloft reefing sails, and the waves breaking

clean over the deck above us. At two o'clock in the morning a heavy sea

struck our starboard side. The concussion seemed like striking against a

rock; some were thrown clean out of their hammocks; women and children

thrown from their berths, crockery smashed and boxes rattled, trunks,

water kegs, tin dishes, plates, pails, and every moveable article was

dashed with violence from one side of the ship to the other.

Women and children screamed with fright, and men jumped from their

hammocks. For a few moments the ship stood perfectly still, as if

stiffened with the stroke, then she shivered from stem to stern, and the

timbers groaned and quivered; in a few moments more she was dashing

headlong onwards through the mountain of waves. I should think if there

were any on board who had never prayed before, they must have prayed

now. Both men and women vied with each other in the exchange of good

offices and friendly words.

Envy was subdued, passionate wrath and revenge were forgotten, all acted

as men and women who were soon to stand in the presence of their God.

There was the pure steady and charming light of Christian hope and love

shining beneath the very shadow of death. It was a solemn and touching

thing to hear so many strong men acknowledge, in that hour of peril,

their utter helplessness, and praying Him who once lay on a pillow

asleep, "Lord save us we perish"—praying Him to abide with us. The

hatches were all canvassed and fastened down, so that none but the

sailors and the soldiers on watch could go on deck, the sea was washing

over the deck. That was indeed, an awful night, dark, chilling, and

drenching; hour after hour passed as we momentarily expected our doom.

The deck was continually washed over by great seas. As soon as morning

light appeared, I managed to get on deck, though with extreme

difficulty, both from dizziness and the motion of the ship. I was

determined to enjoy the fresh air and see how the ocean looked, lashed

into a tempest. I had to cling fast to keep my footing; the ship was

pitching up and down, tossed like a feather in the wind. We rode on huge

mountain billows of dark leaden colour, capped with molten glass and

tipped with silvery caps of foam. As I hung on to the rope, meditating

on the vastness of the ocean, and waves mountains high, my soul was

deeply impressed with the omnipotence and infinity of the God who

scooped out this mighty abyss, and filled it with those powerful waters.

He hath set them their bounds and says to them in their wildest

commotion, "thus far, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed."

This dreadful storm raged all day, and the night was terrible; there was

no more distance nor space; the sky was turned into blackness, and shut

itself down upon the ship, nothing was any longer visible on this the

racecourse of the wind; we felt ourselves delivered over to a merciful

providence. The men, women and children had their second attack of

sea-sickness, even the sailors were sick. The storm raged all next day

(Sunday) and night; no one on board could get anything cooked as the

fires were all put out from the sea washing over the ship; even if they

could, few could eat,—they were all so sick.

THE VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR.

On the wide expanse of the stormy seas,

Our noble ship swept before the breeze,

Our gallant captain, when twelve days had run,

Tried with his sextant to take the sun.

The heavy fog seemed still much worse,

Scarcely knowing where to lay his course,

And tried and tried the stormy main,

While heavy fog seemed to kiss the plain.

The clouds they broke and showed the sky,

Placing the instrument to his eye,

The howling wind our course had fixed,

And marked the latitude at forty-six.

An eastward course he then did try,

While billows they rose mountains high,

The captain's orders were to haul yards back,

And set the sails on starboard tack.

The storm it rose a furious gale,

Which caused the landsmen's hearts to fail,

With deathly sick, as then the heaving ship

Rode high on billows, then her prow would dip.

On the wave-washed deck with deep dismay,

The dizzy soldier feels the deck give way,

And tries in vain a last resource,

To catch a rope to stay him in his course.

Rushing with nausea to the side,

Where the starboard watch at him did chide,

He holds on taut while feet give way,

And clings like death to portsill stay.

But now the western winds the sails expand,

And soon the "look-out" reports he sees the land,

Where there before us in the vapours rolled,

The African mountains looming out so bold.

T. FAUGHNAN.

Monday morning at four o'clock the wind changed on our larboard quarter,

and suddenly dropped. The boatswain piped all hands to square yards and

make sail; this order was hailed by the men, and it soon reached the

women, when they all offered up prayers and thanks to God for their

deliverance.

The wind dropped considerably, and by twelve o'clock all was quiet, the

ship running steadily before the wind.

The usual grog bugle sounded at twelve, when every man made his

appearance. At six in the evening the wind fell away altogether. This

repose after that fearful storm was an unspeakable blessing; all that

had been fury was now tranquillity; it appeared to us a sign of peace;

we could let go the rope or stay we were holding on by; the women and

children could stand upright and straighten themselves, and walk and

move about; we felt ourselves inexpressibly happy in the depths of this

heavenly change. All night was almost a dead calm, and it was a

blessing; we all slept well after the awful pitching and tossing we had

had the last three days. In the morning when I went on deck the sails

were flapping, and not a breath of wind. After breakfast the women and

children were ordered on deck, when the lower decks were thoroughly

scrubbed and cleaned, and when dinner bugle sounded they were allowed to

go below. After dinner the upper deck was washed and cleaned. Toward

evening the wind changed to our starboard and began to freshen; towards

morning we were running before the wind at nine knots an hour. At ten

o'clock a.m., I was agreeably surprised when I heard a sailor from the

masthead cry out, Land, ho! I found by our captain's eyes that the land

lay off our weather beam, but though I strained my eyes looking for the

land, I could see nothing. It was quite an hour before I could find it,

and then it looked more like a cloud than anything else. At length the

veil lifted, and I saw the land stretching away to the eastward, as we

neared it, and saw it more distinctly. It looked a glorious object to us

soldiers, though we were then ten or twelve miles off, yet the highest

peaks, which were above the clouds, some hundreds of feet high, were so

clear that they looked as if they had been stolen out of the "Arabian

Nights," or some fairy tale of wonder and beauty.

The bluff and lofty headland of Cape St. Vincent, with its sharp

detached rock, white light-house, and adjacent convent skirting the edge

of the precipice, was the first land that I saw, as the ship bounded

upon our glorious waters of Trafalgar bay. All on board were quite

recovered of their sea-sickness, as the ship glided across wide bays and

along the indented coast of Spain. The ship had soon studding-sails set,

and she swept onward like some large bird of prey towards the straits.

Tarifa, famous in martial story with its low, flat-roofed houses, backed

by barren-looking, sun-scorched hills, was passed and all eyes were

turned on the tremendous scragged outline of the African coast rising

several thousand feet above the sea. The hazy morning light added to the

effect, throwing out in relief the broad stone face and picturesque form

of Ape's Hill, streaked with shadowy fissures, crevices and

indentations, which the scorching sun failed to touch. But the Spanish

side of the straits, through which the blue Mediterranean now became

visible, engrossed the larger share of our attention. There stood the

bold rock of Gibraltar, rearing its bald crest to the sky, a fit

sentinel at the gate of those waters which lave the shores of fallen,

but once mighty empires, now the key and glory of Old England. The ship

now hoisted her flags, which were immediately noticed at the signal

station, on the loftiest part of the range, where a flag-staff is

visible against the sky. Some of our officers who were on the rock

before, with the help of their telescope could trace many an old haunt.

They knew every path on those craggy heights. There was the town behind

the old Moorish walls, looking the same as ever; there was the Alameda,

the convent, and many other familiar domiciles, peeping from amogst

shrubberies and gardens.

At five p.m. we cast anchor in the harbour of Gibraltar, when the ship

was besieged with bumboats of vendors in oranges, dates, lemons, figs,

and luxuries of almost every kind. Soon after a boat with a yellow flag

approached the ship; it was the health officer, who made inquiries of

our doctor as to sickness on board, and was answered "All right, No

sickness but sea-sickness," when he returned to shore, and afterwards a

staff officer appeared who informed the captain that he had got

"pratique," when the order to disembark at once was given.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XII.

THE LANDING—BARRACKS—GARRISON DUTY—OLD NORTH FRONT—SMUGGLING—

MARKET—QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY—THE DINNER—SPEECHES—THE ROUTE—THE

MARCH—EMBARKATION FOR THE CRIMEA—THE PARTING—THE VOYAGE—ARRIVAL

AT MALTA.

May 13th, 1854, at 6 p.m., the right wing formed in open column of

companies, right in front, on the New Mole, after a very rough passage

from Queenstown, and considering how the men were knocked about, they

looked remarkably clean and well. The band and pipers of the 92nd

Highlanders met us at the New Mole, and played alternately during the

march to the Casemate Barracks, where we were quartered, followed by a

crowd of Rock Scorpions, a motley crowd of English, Irish, Spaniards,

Italians, Jews, and Moors. Several soldiers from the garrison welcomed

us, and seemed pleased to see a fresh regiment arrive to share their

military duties. By two o'clock next day the "Dunbar" arrived with the

left wing. They landed at three o'clock and joined headquarters at the

Casemate Barracks, number six company proceeding to Catalan Bay on

detachment.

The regiment was exempt from garrison duty next day, in order to get its

baggage in order, and settle down in their quarters. The following day

we found the whole of the garrison duties. The guards with their colours

are trooped every day at ten a.m. (Sundays excepted), on the Alameda,

under the field officer, assisted by the brigade major. I was detailed

for the Old North Front Guard, which consisted of one captain, one

subaltern, one sergeant, two corporals, and twenty-four rank and

file—the soldiers take their rations with them on guard. The officers

get their meals sent from the mess.

The guard furnishes a chain of sentries across the neutral ground which

divides the Spanish from the British lines. Gibraltar is a free port,

and a resort, in consequence, of Spanish smugglers, who drive an amazing

trade by running contraband goods into Spain, and _vice versa_, which

the British authorities endeavour to stop by all means possible.

Notwithstanding all their exertions, this fraud is still carried on

under cover of dark nights. I, being posted on No. 6 post along the

Spanish lines from twelve till two, my orders were to make prisoners of

any smugglers who attempted to pass through. As I walked up and down my

post, I heard some slight noise in the long grass. I stooped down and

saw two men crawling along the grass. I advanced, and challenged, "who

goes there?" when they stooped down and tried to get away. I then

advanced nearer, and threatened to fire if they did not answer my

challenge, at the same time brought down my musket to the charge, and

full-cocked. When they saw I was about firing, they stood still and

answered me saying, "Bono Jonny, me good man, here me gib you plenty

bacca, me gib you plenty gin, him good gin, me gib you plenty eberthing

you let me pass, mit dem tings to garden, you plenty big good man, come

from Inglas, you von good man, plenty drink gin, him good for you." They

took some stone jars of gin, and some tobacco, to give me for letting

them through; but, true to my orders, when I saw the smuggled goods they

had, I made them prisoners, telling them if they moved, I would shoot

them. At the same time I passed the word to the next sentry to send for

the sergeant of the guard. They begged off very hard, and finally

offered me all their stuff if I would let them go. As soon as the

sergeant came, I handed him the prisoners, with six large, square blocks

of tobacco, and six large cases of gin. This smuggling is ever carried

on, and the sentries have all they can do to prevent it. Some sentries,

I am sorry to say, compromise with the smugglers, tobacco and gin being

too strong temptations for them. The guard being relieved, we discharged

our muskets into the sea, all our guards being loaded. The climate is

warm and pleasant throughout the year, and yet we can see the perpetual

snow-capped mountains of Andalusia, towering heavenwards in the

distance. The troops have bathing parade twice a week, at five o'clock

in the morning; and several times during the day, may be seen soldiers

and civilians besporting themselves like porpoises in the water of the

Old Mole. There is a market every morning, which opens after gunfire.

The Spaniards cross the neutral ground from Spain with their mules,

loaded with all sorts of provisions, vegetables and fruit, standing

outside the drawbridge, waiting for the gate to be opened. The market

place is fenced in, and divided into square stalls, which are rented by

the vendors, who consist of Moors, Spaniards, Jews, and Italians.

The Moors squat down behind their stalls with their Fez cap, and

turbans, big breeches, and a long loose gown open in front, yellow

slippers, and smoking a long pipe. Oranges, grapes, figs, lemons, dates,

olives, and fruit of almost every description are sold here very cheap.

On the 24th May, the Queen's Birthday, the troops in garrison,

consisting of two batteries royal artillery, two companies sappers and

miners, and four regiments of infantry, were drawn up in line on the

North Front at twelve o'clock, each man furnished with twelve rounds of

blank cartridge. As the clock in the tower struck twelve, a gun fired

from the Sky Battery was the signal for a Royal salute; then the

batteries on the rock as well as the men-of-war in the harbour fired

twenty-one guns each, and the line of soldiers with the field artillery

on their flanks, fired a feu-de-joie. After the smoke cleared off, the

men waved their shakoes in the air, then gave three cheers for Her

Gracious Majesty. This was a grand sight for the spectators, more

especially the Spaniards, who assembled in thousands to witness this

military celebration of Her Majesty's birthday.

The troops then marched past, in slow, quick, and double time, they were

then divided into two armies, and put through a sham-fight, which lasted

till four o'clock. We had those fights frequently, and a general review

once a week during the summer months. On the 15th November, I had

another increase in my family; a girl was born, and she was christened

Elizabeth.

On the 20th November, 1854, we received a letter of readiness to prepare

for active service in the East. Then came the usual packing of baggage,

and creditors—Jews, Moors, and Gentiles—flying round the barracks with

pieces of paper in their hands, looking for what was not easily found

just then.

The evening before embarkation our company was entertained at a supper

by the grenadiers of the 39th Regiment, whom we had often met and done

duty with in the same garrison, and a friendly feeling had sprung up

between the officers and men of both companies; both captains and

officers were present to see the men enjoy themselves. After the cloth

was removed the president proposed a toast to the Queen, which was drunk

with a hearty good will, and three cheers for Her Majesty. The captain

of the 39th stood up to propose the health of their guests. "Brother

officers and soldiers," he said, looking down the two rows of faces, one

on each side of the long table, with a cheerful frank smile, "in the

name of the grenadier company, which I have the honour to command, allow

me to extend to you, our brothers and comrades in arms, a hearty

welcome, I think as this garrison, which has been so jolly, and is about

to be broken up by the gallant '17th Royal Bengal Tigers' going to join

the army in the Crimea, I must say that we are heartily sorry that it

has not come to our turn to share the honours of our comrades in a brush

with the Muscovites; but we hope, ere many days pass, we will have the

gratification of joining you in the East, and there share the glories of

the British Army in fighting for our Queen and country, and leading such

men as I now see before me at this hospitable board against the

Russians. We tender to you frankly the hand of military comrades, and

instead of firing a feu-de-joie of compliments, it is the duty of those

who remain to drink the health of those who are proceeding on active

service in the East. A bumper then, let us say good health and God bless

them." With three times three the glasses were drained, whilst the band

struck up "The British Grenadiers."

Captain John Croker was then called upon to respond. He said, "Brother

officers, and soldiers of the 39th Regiment, this cordial reception

and courtesy of the officers and privates demand our warmest

acknowledgments, which I, in the name of my company, have the honour to

acknowledge, and I propose a health to the grenadiers of the 39th

Regiment with whom we are about to part,—charge your glasses;" and the

toast was drunk with all honours, to the appropriate tune of "Auld Lang

Syne," the company singing, "They are Jolly Good Fellows."

December 2nd, 1854, at 8 a.m., the 17th Regiment "Royal Tigers" paraded

in the square of the Casemate Barracks for the last time, and having

been called to attention, and inspected by the commanding officer,

Colonel McPherson, C.B., he gave the word of command, the men stepped

off, preceded by the bands of other regiments, through the main street

of the town, playing the "Girl I Left Behind Me," followed by a motley

crowds of friends, sweethearts, and curious spectators, as we marched to

the New Mole, where the steam-ship "Tamar" was lying along side the

wharf to convey the 17th Regiment, two batteries of royal artillery, and

two companies of sappers and miners, to the seat of war in the Crimea.

Our parting with our wives and children was a very affecting and trying

sight, officers and soldiers taking the last farewell (some of them,

perhaps for ever) of those nearest and dearest to them, whom they were

now leaving behind on that barren rock; many hundreds of miles away from

friends or relatives, and not sure whether we would ever return again to

our loved families. I had left my wife and three children, one of them

only sixteen days old, trusting in God.

But our Queen and country require us to meet the despot in mortal

combat, and defend the honour and glory of that old flag "that braved a

thousand years the battle and the breeze," therefore we must sever all

family ties, though hard to give up our feelings, when our Queen and

country call us to the front. Let it not be supposed that the officers

are wanting in sympathy towards the private soldier: very superficial

has been the observer, who can believe that the officer and the private

possess little in common with each other; or who can persuade himself

that the private soldier is only a machine, moved only by the command of

his superiors. Should such a casuist exist let him remember that men are

men, whether the scarlet on their backs is of the finest or coarsest

texture; and that, if the advantage of birth and the refinement of

superior education have done nothing for the officer, the private

soldier who makes a good use of such talent as he may have received,

occupies a higher position, be his ever so humble. There were some

private soldiers in the regiment who, at the parting moment, felt as

deeply the separation from wife and children, as the more aristocratic

members of the same profession; nor were incidents of a romantic

interest wanting, though the tearful young girl who saw with anguish her

true lover's departure was only dressed in calico. Doubtless in these

latter times, when England has sent forth so many of her sons to fight

for the honour of her flag, there are few who have not seen something of

the display of the varied emotions which such departures call forth, it

will therefore be unnecessary to say that when the sad time of parting

had come it was visible in the tearful eyes and blanched cheeks of many

in the crowd. The loud cheers which greeted the 17th Regiment as it

passed through the gate of the drawbridge leading down to the wharf

where the ship lay, showed the chivalrous emotions of the stern British

soldiers who lined the ramparts and along the docks, with crowds of

people whose hearts beat with sympathy as the regiment embarked.

At eleven o'clock, all being ready, the captain gave the word and the

steamer moved out slowly from the wharf, the band playing in slow time

"Auld Lang Syne" amid cheer after cheer, and handkerchiefs waving from

the people, and returned by the crowd of red-coats who assembled on deck

to wave their handkerchiefs and wipe away the tears which were fast

running down their cheeks as they gazed on their little ones left behind

on the wharf.

As the steamer rounded the New Mole her speed increased, and the music

also changed time; at length Europa point, with its barracks and

batteries, was turned and the reverse side of the rock, still more bold

and barren with "O'Hara's Old Tower," rearing its lofty weather-beaten

ruined spire, on the highest summit of the Wind-mill Hill. Favoured by a

beautiful sunny day and a westerly breeze, the "Tamar" swept rapidly

past the gigantic sentinel whose watch-word is the roar of the signal

gun, on the summit of the telegraph station; and when the evening sun

was gilding the snow-topped mountains of Africa with a streak of gold,

the good ship had proceeded many miles to the eastward, and though the

mountains of Africa reared their bright summits above the horizon, the

"Old Rock" was no longer to be seen.

Then our attention was directed to the white-capped mountains on the

south coast of Spain; and when these faded from view, time was passed in

looking out for African capes or sun-burned islands.

After tea the men assembled on deck, indulging in all sorts of games to

pass the time. A comic soldier dressed up like a baboon grinned and

jumped round the decks, up the masts, and through all the performance of

a monkey, causing roars of laughter from all around. After this, dancing

was introduced, several of the men being musicians had brought their

fiddles, we were at no loss for music; at the other side a group were

singing comic and sea songs; in this way the evening was passed until

the bugle sounded at nine o'clock, when we turned into our hammocks. We

have much better accommodation than we had on the old "Cornwall,"

although we have three times the number on board.

Next morning decks were washed by the watch at four o'clock; at ten

a.m., commanding officer's parade, when the men looked in excellent

spirits. Now came in view something to call their attention, a grampus

had blown a shower of water in the air fifty feet; the men all rushed to

see what it was, several gave their opinion as to what caused the

eruption of the water, some thought it was a volcano that broke out,

some said it was an infernal machine the Russians had placed there to

destroy our shipping, and many various opinions were brought forward to

explain the cause of the wonderful blow; a sailor, however, came along

and told us that it was a grampus. Now we see plenty of flying-fish,

whole shoals of the glittering little things glide along in the air,

skimming the top of the waves; they rise to escape their pursuers, the

bonitos, which rush after them showing their noses above the water now

and then; but the poor flying-fish have their enemies above as well as

under the water, for they no sooner rise than they risk becoming a prey

to the ocean birds which are always hovering about ready to pounce upon

them; it is a case of "out of the frying-pan into the fire." They fly

farther than I thought they could. I saw one of them fly at least one

hundred yards, and sometimes they fly on deck some fifteen feet from the

surface of the water. The weather was all that could be wished for, and

our splendid ship making rapid progress through the blue waters; the sea

is almost a dead calm, hardly a ripple on the face of the deep; an

occasional whale is seen blowing in the distance, and many grampuses

came rolling and blowing about the ship. One thing that struck me most

is the magnificence of the Mediterranean sun-set; the clouds assume all

sorts of fantastic shapes and appear more solid and clearly defined than

I have ever seen them before; toward evening they abound in colour,

purple, pink, red and yellow, alternately, while the sky near the

setting sun seems a beautiful green, gradually melting into the blue sky

above, the great clouds on the horizon look like mountains tipped with

gold and fiery red. One of those sun-sets was a delightful sight; the

sun went down into the sea between two enormous clouds, the only ones to

be seen, and they blazed with brilliant colours which were constantly

changing, until the clouds stood out in dark relief against the still

delicately tinted sky. I got up frequently to see the sun rise, but it

is not near so beautiful as at setting. After sun-down the officers

chose out a few of the best talent among the men, who assembled on the

quarter-deck and sang some excellent glees, comic and sentimental songs,

with great applause; at nine o'clock the bugle sounded, when we turned

in and slept well, the ship running as steady as if she was in a canal.

Next morning after parade the officers amused themselves with their

revolvers shooting at porpoises which came in shoals close to the ship.

After dinner the band played on the quarter-deck to the delight of all

on board, more especially the ship's officers and sailors. The weather

was beautiful and the sea like a mirror.

At seven next morning the sailor on the look out on the masthead cried

out "land ho!" when all eyes were strained looking for the desired

object, but none could see it for some time afterwards—at last we saw

it in the distance, like a dark cloud lying on the waters; as we neared

the land it appeared to us a rocky, barren-looking island, Malta. Yet

the cultivated strips here and there were so green and flourishing, they

presented a most charming and beautiful appearance. Those who had not

before visited the place were struck with the imposing appearance of

this remarkable city. Tier upon tier of batteries upon all sides showed

bristling rows of guns, daring intruders to enter the harbour with

hostile intentions. To the right the principal part of the town was to

be seen, terrace above terrace, dome and spires, towering above the

houses, all looming darkly against the sky. The air was sultry, and the

reflection of buildings, rocks and shipping, in the almost still water

was only agitated by the little boats which were moving about in all

directions. The harbour was crowded with shipping, and as we moved into

our moorings at ten o'clock, we were cheered by the sailors and soldiers

on board the men of war in the harbour, as well as from the batteries on

either side. We had a splendid passage of nine hundred and eighty miles

in four days.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XIII.

MALTESE—DEPARTURE—A CAPTAIN COMMITS SUICIDE—THE FUNERAL—SMALL-POX—

RETURN—RESUMED THE VOYAGE—GRECIAN ARCHES—DARDANELLES—GALLIPOLI—

TURKISH SENTRIES—CONSTANTINOPLE—TURKISH LADIES—THE BOSPHORUS—

VOYAGE ACROSS THE EUXINE—ARRIVAL.

Soon after our arrival in the harbour, a coal-barge came along side, and

about fifty Maltese commenced to coal our ship; they carried the coal on

their heads in round, wicker baskets; passed each other on the gangway

after depositing their load in the ship's bunker. The coaling lasted

about two hours, during which time the officers and men were amused by

divers who came along in little boats; a boy managing the boat, while

the diver was left free to exercise his strange employment. His dress

consisted of a light pair of drawers short at both ends, and a loose

skirt. Bringing his little craft alongside, where we were looking over

the railing, and divesting himself of his upper garments, he commenced

in a supplicating tone of broken English: "sixpence, me dive for

sixpence, me get him quick; me get him sure." Some of the officers

tossed a sixpence into the water where it was very deep, supposing he

was going to the bottom for it; but experience taught him an easier mode

of catching it. Watching it with the eye of a hawk he saw it strike the

water, and, poising himself, he sprung head first in the sea; the water

was so clear we could follow him with our eyes. Down he went like an

arrow, outstripping the sixpence in the race for the bottom; before it

had sunk twelve feet he had his hands under it in the form of a bowl,

the shining piece dropping into his hands; he then clapped it between

his teeth, rose to the surface, climbed into his boat and exhibited the

prize with the air of a conqueror. This was repeated several times, and

with unerring certainty he caught the prize every time. He then asked

for some one to throw a sixpence the other side of the ship, which was

done, when he sprang under the ship and brought it up in his teeth on

the other side. The Maltese had finished coaling at twelve, when our

steamer moved slowly from her buoy; dense masses of people lined the

batteries, and yet larger crowds of soldiers in the forts St. Angelo and

St. Elmo cheered as our steamer moved along, the cheers from the fort

being taken up by the troops on board, as well as the sailors and

marines in the harbour, and joyously responded to by our troops who

assembled on the deck to give our last hurrah for the East. The Town of

Valetta with its strong forts, batteries, terraces, domes and houses

grew smaller by degrees as the gallant "Tamar" ploughed her onward

course through the blue waters of the Mediterranean, the island looking

like a little blue cloud in the distance, gradually fading away. We have

the trackless expanse around us; in the distance Mount Etna looms up in

the north-west. The ship was making rapid progress through the

waters—the captain says, "if this breeze lasts, we will reach

Constantinople on the 8th," but our expectations were frustrated; "man

proposes, but God disposes," which we found to be true; for on Saturday,

at 8 a.m., a very melancholy occurrence happened which threw a deep

gloom over all the troops on board; the captain commanding the

detachment Royal Artillery had cut his throat in his cabin; no person

could ever find out what was the cause which led him to commit this

dreadful act.

How deeply touching is a burial at sea! replete with reflection,

striking and sublime, as should always be the spectacle of a

funeral,—the tree falling as it must rise again, with no leaves nor

flowers of repentance or prayer, or office to alter its final doom, ever

to bloom again on that cut down stem,—far more deeply does the service

and the sights and the sounds of a funeral on the ocean always move one.

The clouds had cleared and it was intensely hot; the funeral took place

at two o'clock; we saw the body sewed up in a hammock with a round shot

at its feet, and borne by the men of his battery from his cabin and laid

upon the deck. We had no clergyman on board, therefore the painful duty

of reading the service devolved upon the captain of the ship, which

could not have been performed by a clergyman. As he began to read, not a

sound, not a breath broke the solemn silence; nothing but the noise of

the rolling swells against the smooth side of the ship as I stood close

to the gangway while the service was read, in deep thought, and gazing

on the bright and glorious shining sea, now nearly calm, looking so

intensely sunny and blue; it seemed to some a mocking at the king of

terrors, whose victim was about to be committed to its keeping. To me it

looked like the gemmed and crystal gate of that heaven through which the

Son of God had promised the faithful Christian who believes and trusts

in Him to wing its happy way, there to learn many a marvel that he had

striven on earth to trace and explore.

Earnestly and solemnly he read, and, when he uttered the last words, the

sailors raised the body to the edge of the gangway and let it slide,

feet foremost, into the sea "and so we commit his body to the deep." You

who think it a solemn thing to hear the bell of some country church at

home echoing through the rich woods or flowery valleys, telling of the

death of some one who will never return home again, cannot form any idea

of the awe which strikes into the heart at sea. I do not think there

were many dry eyes among the officers and men of his battery, as they

saw the body splash into the deep sea and sink straight down, with the

heavy round shot at his feet. After this painful event the doctor

reported two cases of small-pox, which had broken out amongst the

troops, and immediately the captain and officers held a council to know

what course they would pursue. It was decided to return to Malta, and

put the sick men into hospital there, and prevent taking the infectious

disease out to the Crimea amongst the troops. The ship was headed for

Malta where we arrived at 6 p.m. next day; as we entered the harbour

unexpectedly, from one of the upper forts, at the end of the harbour,

there came a flash, followed by a loud report, which was echoed back and

forward against the rocks and buildings, till the roaring sound at last

died away, and the wreath of white smoke slowly ascended into the sky.

It was the evening gun, which is fired at sun-down. After handing over

the two patients to the proper authorities we again steamed out of

harbour. There were crowds of people again assembled along the batteries

to witness the departure of our noble ship, with the living cargo of

redcoats on board, of course wondering what caused our return. As we got

out to sea, a breeze sprung up on our larboard quarter, when all sails

were set, and soon the island faded again away into the distance, and

once more our ship was going through the waters at 15 knots, under the

influence of wind and steam; next day at six p.m., we had run 240 miles

in 24 hours. Sunday, at ten a.m., parade for divine service, which was

read by the captain of the ship; at sun-down the wind wheeled round

right in our teeth, which obliged us to take in all sail. The men were

paraded at ten a.m., next day, and between various duties, and the sharp

appetites brought on by the sea air, we managed to get over the time

very pleasantly. The band played on the quarter deck in the afternoons,

when the weather permitted; towards evening the wind veered round on our

starboard bow, and the boatswain piped all hands to make sail, but we

were doomed ere long to experience a change of weather, for the sun went

down in a clear but stormy sky, the wind piping, snoring, and howling

through the blocks and rigging, the waves thundering against our

starboard, the ship had to struggle with a south-easterly gale of such

fury, that it reminded me of a Levanter, which the Mediterreanean is

famous for; at daylight the land was made, a heavy cloud-like line just

perceptible. It was the Morea, and the men rushed on deck to see the

land. As we ran up, the snow-covered mountain peaks with cold, rocky,

barren edges, and villages of white houses dotting the declivity towards

the sea, became to us perfectly distinct.

At 8 a.m. we passed Cape Matapan; although the old reputation of this

cape was not sustained by our destruction, still the sea showed every

inclination to be troublesome, the wind kept rising every moment. At ten

a.m. we were passing between the Morea and Cerigo; we had a proof that

the Greeks were nearly right about the weather. Even bolder sailors than

the ancients fear the heavy squalls off those snowy headlands, which

gave us but a poor idea of sunny Greece.

The ancient Greeks always considered a voyage round Capes Matapan and

St. Angelo fraught with great danger. As we rounded the angle of the

cape the wind rushed at us with much fury; we saw the sea rushing with

crests of white foam right on our starboard bow. Its violence was

terrific, the sea was rolling in wondrous waves towards the ship; she

behaved nobly and went over them with the greatest ease. The gusts came

down furiously between the little islands, which we could not make out

or did not know the names. The men bore up well against this furious

storm, although they were all sea-sick but never absent when the grog

bugle sounded at twelve o'clock.

The night came upon us and the ship labouring on, dashing the sea into

white spray in the darkness. At day light next morning the sight was

most discouraging, the clouds were black and low, the sea white and

high, and between them on the horizon was a mass of a broken character

so that one could not be known from the other. We passed Milo at 9 p.m.,

and the gale increased; afterwards at 10 a.m., when the wind changed one

point aft and the ship rolled very much, the deck was inclined to so

sharp an angle that we could only hold on by a tight grip of the stays

and ropes. The sea breaking over the ship swept several of the horse

stalls loose about the deck, and the poor animals lay helpless against

the bulwarks. About twelve o'clock the wind went down and the sun burst

forth, sending his golden warm rays through the clouds, when the

artillery men picked up their horses and put everything in its place

again. We passed the Greek coast trending away to the left, showing in

rugged masses of mountains capped by snowy peaks, and occasionally some

good sized towns were visible on the dark brown hill side, with several

windmills along the beach. With some exceptions, the isles of Greece

rather disappoint the lovers of the picturesque; seen from the sea they

are more or less bold and barren, abounding with sterile rocks almost

entirely devoid of wood, except a stunted olive tree here and there, and

clothed with a kind of reddish-brown grass. The Candian mountains are

perhaps the most striking features which we encountered in our progress

through what the sailors call "the arches," As we swept through the

"Thermian Passage," accompanied in our course by several ancient-looking

craft with little white sails stretching outwards, resembling the wings

of Icarus, and others of no less ancient model, with lofty prow and

solitary square rigged mast. On the left lay the Gulf of Athens, on our

right rose the snowy heights of Mount Ida, 5,400 feet above the level of

the sea, to the north the lofty Lemnos. At three p.m. we passed the

castles of the Dardanelles and the Hellespont; we were not stopped nor

fired at as in days of yore. As we passed Gallipoli, about seven p.m.,

we could see a collection of red-roofed houses, with tall minarets

rising up amongst them. From the entrance of the Dardanelles to

Gallipoli the straits are very narrow, not more than a quarter of a mile

in some places. We ran along close to the bank on the European side; its

breadth opposite the town of Gallipoli is about four miles, and it

expands towards the Sea of Marmora. As the ship ran along the banks we

could see large herds of goats and small black sheep feeding on the high

rocks along the edge of the river. Night was closing on us and, as we

passed the numerous forts on the European side the sentries yelled out

strange challenges and burned blue lights, and blue lights answered from

our ship in return, so that it looked to us a strange spectacle. The

lights were put out and our eyes are as blind as owls in day light, but

our eyes soon recover, the stars at last begin to twinkle, and we see a

little around us. All night we were crossing the Sea of Marmora with a

strong current against us.

[Illustration: BANKS OF THE DARDANELLES.]

Next morning, after breakfast we came in sight of Constantinople; at ten

a.m. we passed the Seven Towers on our left, with Seraglio Point just

before us; at 10.30 we cast anchor with hundreds of other vessels at the

mouth of the Golden Horn. Steam ferry-boats of the English kind were

passing to and fro, and caiques flitted in and out with the dexterity

and swiftness of a sea-gull. As we cast anchor, a small brig coming down

stream ran foul of us on the starboard bow, snap and crash went her

bowsprit and yard, causing considerable damage to our bulwarks and

stays; this accident detained us two hours. The stream runs so swiftly

down the channel that vessels frequently ran foul, sometimes causing

serious damage. We notice passing back and forward from Stamboul to

Pera, caiques with Turkish women wearing white clothes, and staring at

us out of two black holes in their yashmak. At twelve o'clock we weighed

anchor and continued our course through the Bosphorus. The scenery is of

almost unrivalled beauty and the panorama of which Constantinople forms

the principal part, is such as is perhaps nowhere else to be seen in the

world.

[Illustration: A TURKISH LADY.]

As we proceeded up the stream and looked back, the view of the Marmora,

as we leave it behind, is very fine. On the opposite Asiatic shore Mount

Olympus, 8,800 feet high, with its snow-crowned summit fades away into

the blue of the heavens, while the Imperial Palace of the Seraglio, St.

Sophia's Mosque, and others of less proportions, stud the banks in

unbroken lines from the very foot of the forts which command the

entrance up to the crowning glory of the scene, where the Imperial City

of Constantine, rising in many coloured terraces from the verge of the

Golden Horn, confuses the eye with its numerous gardens, cypresses,

mosques and palaces, its masses of foliage and red roofs surmounted by

snow-white minarets with golden tops. The residences of the Pashas, the

Imperial palaces of the Sultan, and the retreats of opulence, line these

favoured shores. As the ship ran along we could see the Turks sitting

cross-legged like tailors on their verandahs smoking away and looking as

like each other as if they were twins. The windows of these houses are

closely latticed and fastened, but here and there can be seen a

white-faced lady, with gay coloured robe, peeping through the jalousies,

showing that the harem is occupied by the fair sex. These dwellings

succeed each other the whole length of the Bosphorus, and at places such

as Buyukdere they are numerous enough to form large villages, provided

with hotels, shops, and lodging houses.

[Illustration: THE SULTAN'S PALACE, SERAGLIO POINT.]

The Turks delight in sitting out on the platform over the water while

they smoke their chibouque, and the greatest object of Turkish ambition

is to enjoy the pleasure of a residence on the banks of the Bosphorus.

These waters abound in fish, and shoals of porpoises and dolphins

disport on its surface, splashing and playing about with ease as they

swim against its rapid stream.

I noticed the Turks never took the least notice of us as we arrived; so

we departed in silence, and, as far as the Turks were concerned, in

solitude. The boatmen scarcely turned their heads to look at the

majestic steamer with her deck covered with British troops, crossing the

broad, rough, and stormy seas to fight for these lazy, indifferent

orientals, who would scarcely turn their heads to look at us, much less

give us a cheer as we departed from the Sultan's Sublime Porte.

[Illustration: THE SULTAN.]

As we pass the batteries which mark the opening of the Bosphorus into

the Euxine, we cheer the Turkish sentries as we shoot past them into the

Black Sea, and soon the land is shut out. A fog, a drifting, clammy,

mist, cold and rain, fall down on us like a shroud, and as the night

closes in, it damps out the stars and all the light of heaven, and

steals down yard, mast and stays; this is genuine Black Sea weather.

In the morning the same haze continued with drifting cold wind; after

breakfast we commenced to sharpen our swords and bayonets in order to

have them ready to serve out to the Russians in a professional manner,

and with as little pain and torture as we possibly could; the

grinding-stones were furnished by the sailors;—this occupied the whole

day. The morning dawned; the sun, red and stormy, glared from an angry

sky, over a rugged outline of coast not more than twenty-five miles

distant, and lighted up by white capped waves which plunged athwart the

ship's course. As we neared the land the captain and officers stood

forward with their telescopes in hand. Where was the desired haven? was

now the subject of conversation, not a sign of an opening was

distinguished in that formidable rock, which the telescope scanned from

end to end; but at last the captain sighted a ruined tower upon a cliff

somewhat lower than the rest with a union-jack flying.

It was not long before the masts of a man-of-war just visible above the

high rocks which marked the narrow entrance into Balaklava harbour, was

seen; up went our number, but in vain we looked for an answer. We

entered the small, deep harbour through a very narrow passage which was

crowded with shipping. We ran up close alongside the ledge of a steep

rock on the left side of the harbour, in twenty fathoms of water, and

made fast to iron hooks fixed in the rock for that purpose.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XIV.

DISEMBARKATION—FIRST BIVOUAC—THE MARCH—ARRIVAL—SEBASTOPOL—THE

TRENCHES—FIRST MAN WOUNDED—RETURN TO CAMP—AN ALARM—LORD RAGLAN—

SORTIE—FORAGING—THE OLD BRIDGE—COLONEL COLE—THE SIEGE.

December 15th, 1854, at 2 o'clock p.m., the regiment disembarked, in

heavy marching order, at Balaklava, having been served out with the

following articles of camp equipage previously, which we carried to the

front, consisting of one circular tent complete to every sixteen men,

one camp-kettle, frying-pan, axe, hand-saw, spade, shovel, and two

billocks to each mess, one blanket to each man, with three days' ship

rations.

The command being given, we marched, distributing the camp equipage

amongst the men of the company. The rain poured on us as we waded knee

deep through the mud, making the best of our way among the heaps of

forage and stores, which lay under the rain and exposed to the weather,

without cover of any kind, all around Balaklava. We were obliged to halt

outside the town, on account of the heavy rain, and pitch our camp on

the side of Kadikoi Hill for the night. Before we got our tents pitched

we got saturated with rain to our very skins. We had cold comfort that

night, in wet clothes and blankets lying on the damp ground; everything

wet except our ammunition which we always managed to keep dry;—we had

not even a light in our tents. At 9 o'clock, after posting the piquet

sentries around our camp, we lay down;—this was a good receipt for

rheumatism, and it required a strong constitution to bear up. At

reveillé next morning we were on the alert, eat some biscuits without

water, alas, there was no water near our camp, and marched off. After

marching four miles through a slough of Balaklava mud, which it is

impossible to describe, we pitched our camp on the most favourable spot

we could find, and close to a stream of water; having indulged in the

latter beverage very copiously, with some hard biscuits, we turned into

our tent, always placing sentries around our camp. The flashes from the

guns of Sebastopol lighting up our camp, we lay down as we did the night

before, in our wet clothes, overcoat and blanket. Our slumbers were

frequently disturbed during the night by the thundering of the guns of

Sebastopol. At 6 a.m. we tried to make a camp-fire, and get some hot

coffee previous to our departure, but we failed in the attempt; several

foraging parties scoured the neighbourhood searching for some wood or

brambles to make a fire with, but could not find any; so we drank plenty

of water from the stream, and filled our kegs with the blessed fluid.

After eating some hard biscuit, we struck our tents and resumed our

march to the front. As we proceeded through the "slough of despond," we

marched through the French camp, when the French soldiers turned out and

cheered us, their bands playing "God save the Queen" as we passed their

camp, which we responded to in a most friendly manner. We arrived at the

4th Division, to which we were posted, at two p.m., after wading through

slush and mud the whole way, sinking knee-deep at every step, and were

shown our camp grounds on Cathcart's Hill, with the honour of being the

front regiment of the 4th Division.

Before we had our tents pitched, two-thirds of the regiment were

detailed for the trenches that night; several men reported themselves

sick, having caught severe colds from sleeping in their wet clothes on

the damp ground the two previous nights, together with the heavy

fatiguing march from Balaklava, on, I might say, an empty stomach, for

we had nothing to eat or drink from the time we disembarked, except hard

biscuit and cold water. We could not eat raw pork just then, this told

on the men's constitutions; although their pluck was good they had to

give in; they were sent to the hospital tent. After we had finished

tent-pitching, I was anxious to see Sebastopol and its surroundings. I

went to the top of Cathcart's Hill, where I had a splendid view along

the whole line of trenches from Kamiesch Bay to the Tchernaya River

enclosing Sebastopol, which shone white and clear in the sun. I could

see a large Russian camp defended by earth-works on the north side of

the harbour, and large masses of Russians on parade outside the camp. At

sun down the covering party were paraded on the brigade grounds, and,

after dark, marched for the first time to face the Muscovite, a field

officer in charge, each party with their officers. Marching down, the

Russians opened a heavy fire; at every flash we all lay down until the

round shot passed over, in this way we dodged them until we relieved the

party in the trenches; during the time of relieving, the enemy always

opened a heavy fire—they knew the time our relief took place after

taking charge of the trenches. One hundred men were told off to build

batteries in the second parallel, and cutting advancing trenches.

We were formed into gangs of twelve men, each in charge of a

non-commissioned officer, with officers superintending the whole, the

work having been laid out by the Royal Engineers. We worked hard under

shot, shell, grape and canister, until twelve, when the grog was served,

each man getting a half gill of rum, which gladdened our hearts and gave

fresh strength to proceed with our work. While we were working, a man

was placed on the look-out for the flashes of the guns, and when he saw

one gave the word "down," when we lay down in the trench; if it was a

shell, got behind the traverse.

The flashes from our guns and mortars gave us light to carry on our work

when the night was dark. In the morning we felt hungry, but had nothing

to eat or drink except biscuit and cold water, unless we eat raw pork,

which some could not do then; a man does not know what he can eat until

he is driven to it, which was shown afterwards. The Russians kept up a

steady fire during the night from the Garden and Crows' Nest batteries,

which our batteries responded to with a powerful fire. During the day we

tried several shots with the "Old Brown Bess" at some working parties

who were throwing up earth-works about 800 yards distance, but could not

reach them. Oh, how I wished to have a good Enfield rifle then instead

of the smooth bore which we were armed with. A Russian shell burst close

to us, a splinter of which struck one of our grenadiers named Chas.

O'Maley, causing a deep wound in his head; this was the first blood shed

in the regiment; his wound was dressed by the doctor who was in

attendance at the Green Hill trench. Being relieved by a fresh party at

sun-down we marched to camp under the darkness of the evening. There we

indulged in our usual meal of raw pork, biscuits, and cold water.

Several parties had been foraging for wood, or roots, or anything to

make a fire, but could get nothing; therefore we had to lie down in our

tent, our feet to the pole, knapsack under our head, and fully

accoutred, with our blankets round us on the wet ground, without a fire

or any warm food. We were never allowed to take off our accoutrements at

night. During the night an alarm was given that the enemy had advanced

on our trenches in large force, when we turned out and marched down. As

we advanced on the trenches the cracking of musketry and roaring of

cannon was deafening, the flashes lighting up the way as we doubled to

the trenches. When we reached the Green Hill trench, the enemy had been

repulsed with great loss; several Russians lay dead and wounded on the

field, and in the trenches our loss was comparatively light, four men

killed and nine wounded. We then returned to camp and lay down in peace

till morning, wet and tired. At eight a.m., next morning, Lord Raglan

and his staff visited our camp, when the men turned out; he inspected

the camp and was well pleased with the appearance of the men. After the

usual breakfast of salt pork and biscuit, all available men, after

furnishing the trenches, were employed in carrying round shot and shell

from the divisional depôt to the trenches.